


Flour Dust

by ellerean



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future Fish, Fluff and more fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5246045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerean/pseuds/ellerean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Saba Café was supposed to be a quiet end to Officer Matsuoka's day, but his trusty police dog is never truly off-duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flour Dust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SakuraRain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakuraRain/gifts).



> I hosted a little giveaway at tumblr for 2,000 followers, and [solfegefaerie](http://solfegefaerie.tumblr.com) won a fic from me! She requested Chef Haru and Cop Rin meeting after work, with an appearance from Rin's overexcited police dog who loves Haru's treats. As the tags say, fluff and more fluff.
> 
> This prompt was so fun and sweet, and I'm glad it give me a chance to finally write Chef Haru.

He saw the dog before the officer, as usual.

The dog was a big one, black, its coat so clean that it shone. He was off-duty, if a dog could know such things, tongue lolling and dripping drool onto the café’s sidewalk. Haru tried not to mind too much; it was just drool. It would dry.

“Haru!”

The voice rang out simultaneously with the bell over the door, both merrily jingling in the small café. The dog on its leash preceded him, dragging its owner over the threshold, as Haru turned for the platter of broken shortbread cookies.

“Do I get any of those?” Rin asked. “Or are they always for Fury?”

Haru balanced the platter on both palms as he stared down at the dog. Fury sat at Haru’s feet, tail audibly thumping on the tile floor, sharp teeth bared in a wide-mouthed grin. He glanced up, trying not to see the resemblance.

Rin glared. “What?”

Since Rin had started visiting with the police dog, Haru had a lot more “accidents” baking. Especially with the shortbread; the dog sniffed around more when those cookies were baking, or when he spied them sitting beneath the glass dome on the countertop. Now, Haru sifted through the small pile of cookie fragments for the largest one, delicate holding it up between thumb and forefinger. The dog lifted his head higher. “Fury.”

He barked, and Haru tossed the cookie upward. Fury’s jaws snapped around it before it hit the floor, loudly crunching between his teeth.

Haru lifted another piece, staring Rin square in the eye. “Rin.”

Rin cocked an eyebrow. “No.” He deftly swiped the cookie from Haru’s fingers, not that Haru would’ve tossed it to him anyway—Rin’s reflexes were good, but not as good as a police dog’s.

It was an odd routine, of sorts. It didn’t feel like Rin’s first visit to the Saba Café had been only months prior, that he wasn’t always perching on a stool as Haru locked up. The platter of cookie fragments lay at his feet alongside the dog, who enjoyed the sweets more than his master did. With the “closed” signed turned out and the shades drawn over the high windows, Haru returned back behind the counter.

The café even smelled different after closing, without the rush and bustle of cooking and customers. The air around them settled as Haru sliced off two thick pieces of bread, and he smiled at the sound of Fury’s munching as he opened the fridge for the salami. Though he had his back to Rin, Haru knew he sat with his elbows propped on the countertop, smiling with that silly smile of his.

He worked slower after closing, knife sliding through the flesh of the tomato, and the careful selection of the crispest lettuce leaves. When he turned around Rin was hunched down, an arm invisible behind the counter, grinning as he pet an unseen head near his feet. Haru lay a pickle wedge beside the sandwich before sliding the plate across the countertop.

“We haven’t missed the sunset yet,” Rin said, picking up one triangular slice of sandwich. “Fury would like a walk on the beach.”

Haru smirked. “Fury, huh?”

The sun _was_ still out, it was true; Haru had missed too many sunsets during the colder months, but the days were steadily growing longer. The crunching at Rin’s feet was replaced by the soft hum of contentment, of a vicious beast with a full belly and a smile on his face.

“He needs to get his exercise!” Rin said, but Haru only smiled in reply. The blinds brought in trace amounts of fading sunlight, which meant they wouldn’t have time enough to get down to the beach before it fully set. Haru rinsed Fury’s cookie platter, saving it for the next day; he refilled the napkin holders; he wiped the countertop around Rin’s plate, waiting for him to finish. He untied his apron, folding it neatly on a shelf beneath the counter.

“Come with me,” Haru said, and turned for the back room.

It wasn’t like Rin had never been through the rear door but he looked around anyway, in awe, at the industrial-sized cooking supplies that were stashed there. The shelves were lined with bags of flour too big to be sold in a standard grocery; the spices were stored in clear plastic canisters, their contents neatly hand-lettered on white labels—Salt. Cinnamon. Garlic. They passed the looming steel of the walk-in refrigerator toward simple wood door at the rear of the building. Fury bounded outside first, sniffing the ground as Haru locked the door behind them.

But as Haru turned to lead them down the alley, Rin touched his hand. He didn’t clutch it all at once; he held to just his fingers, gently tugging him backward.

“Hey.”

Rin’s voice was soft like the night sky, the purples and golds that encircled his head as Haru faced him. Fury went quiet, too, looking out down the alley, a quiet contemplation that matched his master’s. Rin’s arm slid around Haru’s waist as he stepped closer, and then their lips touched. Rin was salty with the aftertaste of salami but his mouth was cool, a trace of lettuce and tomato on his tongue, the warmth and comfort of home-baked bread.

His hair was slightly matted with sweat, from wearing the police cap all day, but Haru worked his fingers through the tangles. He didn’t smell like gunpowder today; he smelled of the beach instead, and an undercurrent of the spicy fragrance he spritzed in his cruiser.

“We’ll miss the sunset,” Haru murmured, and Rin grinned as they clasped hands.

They’d already missed it, judging by the limited visibility of the back alley, but Haru guided him toward the fire escape regardless. Fury sniffed around their feet as Haru let down the ladder, the clanking metal echoing around them. Rin’s hand lingered at Haru’s waist as he took the first step up—a supposed need to boost him up, or for support—but even as Haru climbed his hand lingered, slowly trailing down the side of his leg until it was only his foot he could reach, and then nothing at all.

When Haru hoisted himself onto the first-floor landing, Fury started to growl.

“Haru, wait.”

He grasped the railing with both hands and looked down at the top of Rin’s head. He’d never seen Rin from this angle, so high—his shoulders were wide, his hair thick, his chest puffed out and muscular. He could see a tangled of hair that his fingers had missed. He focused on that one piece of hair out of place rather than the hand Rin rested on the holster at his waist. Fury sniffed around his feet, the growling steadily louder, and then Rin stepped out of his line of vision as he followed the dog. Haru slumped down where he stood, sitting cross-legged on the landing, and eventually turned to watch them leave. Already Rin and Fury were fading silhouettes, walking away from the setting sun, and from Haru. He held onto the spokes of the railing, the vertical bars like a jail cell.

Haru wasn’t one for prayer, but he closed his eyes. He didn’t know which god to pray to, but someone was bound to hear his plea. He breathed in, his hearing attuned to Rin, straining to listen though they moved silently away.

Then—a gunshot.

Haru was scurrying back down the ladder without a second thought. A warning shot, he thought, or he hoped. He immediately regretted moving but couldn’t go back up the ladder now, drawing further attention to his movements with the clanging of the fire escape. He stood close by the ladder instead, like it was sufficient enough to hide him. He looked to the rear door of his café, seeming so far away now despite the narrowness of the alley, and felt for the keys in his pocket. They were cool metal, biting into his palm as he grasped the ring, and then he was hurrying back across the lane.

He didn’t turn on the lights. From the café’s entrance the place looked to be closed, vacant; anyone passing wouldn’t expect someone to be inside. He locked the rear door, slowly turning the key in the lock, and grabbed the first item nearby before heading toward the café's front entrance. He clutched the oversized bag of flour in his arms, like a child he tried to protect, holding it closer to his chest and cradling its head.

There was no further sounds from outside or, at least, no further gunshots. There were no whining sirens for backup, and no one shouting. The silence was either a comfort or the worst that could happen, nothing in between, and part of him didn’t want to peek through the blinds to find out.

But he did anyway.

The alley lead out to a side street, but whatever had happened hadn’t affected the main strip outside. He ignored the relief of the quiet, with Rin not in his line of vision, and no echoing sound of Fury’s barking.

He unlocked the front door and poked his head out.

The street was dark now save for the streetlamps, which illuminated small, circular pools of light on the sidewalk below them. The street was primarily food and shopping, with some residents living above, so there were only a trace number of people on the street. He looked down toward the exit of the alley, which a young couple was approaching on the sidewalk. They had their arms around each other, his hand in her back pocket—Haru frowned—but they passed the alley without a second thought. Haru slid outside, leaning back on the door to close it, and waited for the couple to pass. They barely glanced at him, too focused they were on the other’s love-struck eyes. He shifted the bag of flour to one arm to lock the door.

Haru froze in his tracks when Fury appeared, as if materializing on the sidewalk. He took the sharp turn toward Haru, all on-duty and none of the cookie-consuming nonsense that occupied his café in the off-hours. He didn’t growl; he didn’t even bark. He rubbed his snout against Haru’s leg, and he felt the cold wetness of the nose through his pants. “What is it?” Haru murmured, stroking the dog’s head, as the dark buildings were suddenly lit by the flashing lights of a police cruiser. The siren was silent, as to not attract attention, but little could be done about the squealing of the tires as it came to a stop. When Fury ran toward it, Haru followed.

The dog greeted Sousuke as he stepped out of the car and Haru stopped short, heels skidding on the sidewalk. Sousuke looked at the dog, then to Haru, then to the bag of flour in his arms.

“What are you _doing_ , Nanase?”

He clutched the flour protectively. “Rin—”

His heart seized when someone emerged from the alley—a young girl—struggling with her hands clasped behind her back. He let out an audible breath when Rin followed, roughly pushing her toward the car. The cruiser’s lights glinted off his badge and the silver of the handcuffs; Rin’s scowl was even more menacing with the cruiser’s red lights sweeping over him. Sousuke opened the rear door and Rin pushed the girl in, slamming it closed behind her. Fury sat triumphantly near the car and—Haru couldn't be certain—he thought the girl had glared at him.

Haru hadn't thought Rin noticed him standing there at all, until he swung around and pointed an accusing finger at him. “I told you to stay put!” Behind him, Sousuke opened the driver’s side door. “And what are you doing with _that_?!” he cried, pointing at the flour.

He’d been clutching the bag too hard and the corners began to seep, leaving a trail of flour dust down the front of his shirt. He stared at the dotted flour on his bare arm, considering the question. “I thought you needed help,” he said. “I saw this first.”

Rin threw his hands into the air. “You have a drawer full of _knives_!” Sousuke shook his head as he climbed into the car, then waved an arm out the window as it peeled away. With the absence of the cruiser, and the girl no longer in his vicious grip, Rin let out a sigh and leaned against a streetlamp. The light shone down one side of his body, bouncing off his red hair and washing out the pink undertones of his skin. “This one thought she’d do some shopping after hours,” he said, crossing his arms. “She had some cheap lock pick.”

Haru tightened his hold around the flour. “She was... going to Saba Café?”

He looked away as Rin approached, but the tension in his shoulders eased when Rin threw his arm around them. “She wasn’t near the café yet. Besides,” he added, “I doubt that piece of junk lock pick would’ve gotten her anywhere.”

Haru stared at the sidewalk. Fury sat before them, silently staring up at them both. He sniffed, recognizing the scent of flour in the air, likely wondering where the cookies were.

“We missed the sunset,” Haru said. “Will you stay as I bake for tomorrow?”

Rin pecked his cheek. “You bet I will.”

 

* * *

 

They kept only the emergency lights on in the café. He didn’t have written recipes but Rin helped gather ingredients, bringing out bricks of butter and giant bags of sugar from the pantry. Fury looped around their feet, staying close to Haru like his own personal guard dog.

The café was already warming as the oven's temperatures rose, and Rin was tying a spare apron around his waist. He and Haru stood side by side, Haru pouring ingredients into an oversized bowl as Rin mixed them through. Rin had rolled his sleeves to the elbow, his cheeks pinking as he worked, the flour dust coating his bare forearms and the front of his uniform. Haru had turned to grease a cookie sheet but watched from the corner of his eyes, not wanting to admit that such furious mixing was unnecessary.

Fury moved before Haru did, retreating to a corner of the café. He curled around himself, resting his head on his forepaws, watching like he challenged Haru to move. To do _something_. But Haru was already in motion, sliding around to stand behind Rin and wrap both arms around his waist. When Haru kissed the nape of his neck, he felt the shiver up Rin’s spine.

“Quit goofing off,” Rin said, unconvincingly, as he squirmed in Haru’s hold. “Am I gonna do all the work here?”

Haru rested his cheek on Rin’s shoulder, feeling the way his body moved as he stirred. The muscles of his back were tense, the circular motion of his shoulder massaging Haru’s cheek. “You protected me,” he said.

Rin stopped. He set the spoon on the counter, then lay a hand over Haru’s forearm. “I protect everyone, Haru.”

Haru watched the dog, who watched him. When Haru squeezed tighter around Rin’s waist, Fury looked away. “That’s different.”

Rin spun around in his arms. There was no trace of the hardened Officer Matsuoka then, in the partial darkness of the café, with his eyes so close and so soft as he looked at Haru. He eased into a smile, gentle, patient. He kissed Haru’s cheek, and Haru felt the residue of flour. “I know that.” He kissed the other cheek, then the bridge of his nose. “Of course it’s different.”

When they kissed, he tasted like cookies this time. The unbaked dough of cookies, of sugar and vanilla. Haru squeezed his eyes shut, trying to still the tremble in his lips, the shaking that moved to his limbs. When they broke apart Rin kissed beneath his eyes, though there was nothing there to kiss away.

“Don’t let the dough sit too long,” Haru mumbled.

“Work, work, work.” Rin turned back to the counter but held to Haru’s hand, resting it on his stomach as he picked up the spoon. “Can’t even have any fun around here.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> ([Here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/133554891888) on tumblr.)


End file.
